


nostalgia

by Maharetchan



Series: anime salve [3]
Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Alana is the serial killer and Will is still Will, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Depression, Other, Prison, Role Reversal, Self Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, incarceration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-23
Updated: 2014-06-23
Packaged: 2018-02-05 21:28:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1832887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maharetchan/pseuds/Maharetchan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alana tries to kill herself during her incarceration; Will visits.</p>
            </blockquote>





	nostalgia

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pondglorious](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pondglorious/gifts).



> 1\. So apparently there's more of this au who would've thought! I have planned two more parts actually, and, while I don't think anything will ever happen between these two, I can tell you Hannibal will come back into the picture. We'll see if they will come out.  
>  If you ship it, I guess this could be read as Willana, but I wrote it as gen, however you can interpret it as you wish.  
> 2\. I have a tumblr ([samiferist](http://samiferist.tumblr.com/) ) so feel free to message me there if you feel like. I'd love it! ^^  
> 3\. My first language is not English and I don't have an English beta reader. So please excuse the grammar mistakes that you'll probably find.  
> 4\. I love comments!

After her first suicide attempt, Jack Crawford comes visiting her and sits by her side through the night, with Alana catching glimpses of him and of the sullen expression on his face through the thick fog of the heavy sedation.

He doesn't touch her, holding her hand or trying to comfort her in any way, barely even looks at her, like doing that causes him an unbearable physical pain, but he stays: there are bonds that run so deep, they're impossible to sever completely, and this seems to be one. When she feels a little stronger and less confused, she asks him about Bella and he replies with a heavy, tired and defeated voice that prompts her to dig deeper, but all she meets is the wall of his defenses, his inability to open up to her again like he used to.

He's old, she thinks suddenly while he helps her sipping some water with practiced ease, he's an old, broken man who's losing the love of his life and who has far too many burdens on his shoulders. He's crooked, bends under them, no longer able to keep himself upright under their weight.

They don't mention the restraints around her wrists or the fact that she swallowed a whole bottle of pills; he doesn't even asks where she got them and for a few hours, despite his stiffness, it's almost like going back in time and forget where they are, the grimy hospital room, the armed guard outside, to go back to when he used to trust her and call her his friend. It's oddly melancholic and leaves a sad taste in her mouth

When Jack finally leaves, Alana watches him walk away and wonders if he's thinking about attempting to do what she did and if he'd be able to succeed. 

She doesn't feel sorry for him; she just wishes she could help him and Bella leave this life with some dignity. 

She sleeps after that and there is nothing but emptiness in her dreams.

\-----

Alana Bloom doesn't want to die, and death for her is usually nothing but a distant and vague inevitable fact of life, but her cell seems to become smaller and smaller every day and while she watches the walls close in on her all she can think about is that death would not be a defeat for her. 

It'd be a victory; to escape and rise above the restraints and the cages. 

She'd be finally free again. 

She spends her days between those four walls, staring at the ceiling, walking as much as the small space permits, reading and pissing in the little, ugly toilet right in front of the guards.

Her voice is a distant memory, other than her lawyer she has almost no one to talk to and even her moments alone in the yard feel like a constriction. 

Alana Bloom hungers for freedom and ending her own life seems to be the fastest way to get what she wants. 

So she keeps trying. 

\-----

They force her talk to a varied range of psychiatrists and other doctors after every attempt to kill herself and each one of them is met with her cold gaze and hard words.

The majority of them, she just pretends are not there, some she probes and pokes until they run away outraged and terrified, giving her at least that small pleasure. 

Alana's lawyer tries to talk some sense into her, to persuade her to show a more cooperative side to the institution. 

Chilton brags about trying to transfer her to an even more secure facility if she doesn't agree to talk to him, one under his complete control. 

He enjoys his petty torments and his commonplace sadism, his eyes shining in excitement at the prospect of more humiliation for her, but he's always the one who comes out of their conversations shaken, pale and on the verge of a breakdown, while Alana smile satisfied. 

Of course her entertainment has a price. 

There are more days in isolation.

More restraints, more cages. 

And Alana retreats farther and farther away into herself to escape them, wondering how long will it take to lose touch with reality and disappear into the labyrinth of her own mind.

\-----

Will always has a file with him in the rare occasions when he comes to visit her, keeps it between them like he hopes to find protection in that thin manila folder that lies unopened on the table. 

There are thick bandages around her wrists and he can't stop looking at them. 

Alana wonders if he's imagining her bleeding out like he did after she stabbed him, if he's thinking about the scars she'll have, if he's comparing them.

If he's thinking about the scars he has inflicted upon himself as well and if somehow this makes them even.

"Are you going to keep trying until you'll finally get it right?"

She smiles a little. 

"Practice makes perfect after all."

He keeps staring at her in silence, like her words didn't even reach him.

"Are you here to persuade me to stop? To become more collaborative?"

He doesn't say anything, doesn't pick up on her provocation, and shifts his gaze to a vague point behind her.

Alana knows she must look terrible, her face grey and dull, her hair dry and messy, her prison uniform falling baggy on her thin body; he knows he doesn't look much better, always tired and worn out by the terrible world around him. They are both wrecks, but somehow staring into the destruction of the other is oddly helpful. 

Will rubs his eyes and inhales deeply, keeping his fingers pressed on his browbone for a few seconds before putting his glasses back on and finally looking at her. 

"Why are you doing this? I would've never thought you'd be the type to recur to suicide. Doesn't fit you."

She knows she could lie: he'd be aware of it right away, but he wouldn't press forward. They're in a limbo where they know how much pain they have inflicted on the other and still need to see how deep the wounds run and how much deeper they can be made. 

"My cell is becoming smaller and smaller, like the walls are closing in on me and there's nothing I can do to escape it. The days are long and I know I'll have to spend the rest of my life in here, I know I deserve it, but... still, I can't bring myself to look forward to it or accept my fate."

He looks at her right in the eyes and then nods very slowly, like he knows what she means and Alana knows that he does, that he too lives in a cage of his own making and constantly fights again its bars even though he's the one who created it in the first place. 

They're both trapped birds and the more they fight, the smallest the prison becomes. 

"You brought this upon yourself. You have no one else to blame."

He tries to be cruel, but only manages to sound hurt and broken. 

"The irony of all of this, I guess. I knew what my decisions would lead me to and yet I still made them."

Will sighs and doesn't speak for a long time, stares at closed file like he could read on its cover all the answers he needs. Alana feels the abyss that runs between them like she never did before, wonders how his life is outside, how are his dogs, if he met anyone or if he lives alone and removed from the world, unable to trust anyone after what she did to him. 

She imagines him alone in his little house, wasting his days away working and drinking and trying to overcome the feeling of loss and longing for his old life. Alana truly wishes she could have ended his sufferings and hates herself for her failure. 

"Is there anything that could convince you to stop trying to kill yourself?"

She smiles sadly. 

"Can you break me out of here?"

He cracks a smile at that that only lasts a second, but it's enough to give him a different light, a memory of who he used to be. 

"I'm sorry, even if I could I would never do it."

"I know."

He's broken in so many parts, there are so many pieces of himself he has lost along the way; she would have tried to break him further once, before trying to reshape him how she wanted him to be, replacing his missing pieces with new ones of her own making. 

That time is gone now, now she can only watch Will from behind bars and remember who they both used to be.

They are old inside, wasted lives that will never be fixed or saved; Alana accepted who she is a long time ago, but he's still so lost it breaks her heart to watch him sink lower and lower.

Will collects his things and gets up after a while, his hand making half a movement to touch her, but stopping before he comes too close. Alana understands and doesn't blame him for something that is her own fault.

"I need to go now. But... I'll come back, if you'll still be here."

Alana is so surprised by his words it takes her a second to react, stares at him and watches his mouth curve up a little.

She closes her eyes and laughs silently to herself while she watches him leave. 

His back becomes smaller and smaller until he disappears in the shadows of the corridor.


End file.
